The Girl With Red Hair (The Last War Saga Book 1) Read Online Free PDF Page A

a few hundred feet to the east. Despite the dense forest, he had been nearly blinded by it. Alexander was at the ready in an instant, glaive in hand. He stared into the dark forest, looking for some sign of what had transpired. It seemed the briefest instance of fire, or perhaps lightning, but now the forest was just as dark as before. And just as silent. It was as if time had stopped.
    He continued to wait, scanning the undergrowth, until the smell of burning filled his nostrils. Fire . Without a second thought, the red-haired Plainsman ran eastward. Fire was a danger in any capacity within the forest, that much he knew, and he also knew that if there was fire then there may well be some creature in peril. A man does his best to protect those that need it. Running away from the danger instead of towards it was never a decision he considered.
    Whatever had flashed in the forest must have been far brighter than he had first thought, for he ran for a full two minutes before he saw the devastation. A circular area of forest nearly fifty feet across had been burned away. Smoldering debris lay scattered out from the center of the ashen crater. The air was thick with the scent of burned wood and an acrid smell he couldn’t place.
    Strangest of all was that the crater was not empty. A pair of young men stood over a much smaller figure. One was short, thin, and plainly dressed. The other was taller, thick of muscle and barrel-chested, with an instrument of some kind strung in the middle of his back. They seemed to be arguing, but Alexander couldn’t make out the words. Now that he had reached his goal, he felt uncertainty creep in.
    Behind him a twig snapped, sounding like a strike of thunder in the calm night air. Alexander whirled, glaive at the ready. An elven man stared back at him. Clad in leather armor, he bore a bow, arrow nocked, and piercing emerald eyes. He scowled, but eased the tension on his bow.
    “Who are you?” the elf whispered.
    Alexander eased into a loose stance and lowered the tip of his blade. “I’m Alexander,” he whispered back.
    “Alexander…”
    “Farmer,” he added, not knowing what the elf expected of him.
    The elf’s scowl deepened. “A Plainsman?”
    Alexander nodded. Even without giving his name, he couldn’t imagine it being difficult to ascertain his home. He bore the characteristic fair skin, freckles, and rusted hair of most of the human Plainsmen. He added a short bow, unsure of the customs in the Forest.
    The elf held up his hand suddenly and turned to his right. His nostrils flared. Alexander suppressed a laugh. Was he sniffing the air?
    “Oh, Sweet Mother,” the elf said before disappearing beneath a mass of fur and fangs.
    Alexander nearly fell over backwards. The wolf was enormous, easily covering the elf with its broad body. It was thick with corded muscle, its eyes a deep red. It roared in the elf’s face and bared its teeth. Alexander could hardly discern the elf beneath the great beast, and it didn’t look like he was moving.
    Instinct kicked in within moments and he charged, glaive arcing a wide path as he struck for the wolf’s thick neck. The blade sliced through fur and flesh as easily as a scythe through wheat and wedged itself into the dense muscle below. The wolf roared and thrashed against the attack, ripping the weapon from Alexander’s hand and sending him to the forest floor. He tucked his head and rolled to a crouch, ready to react, ready to run.
    The wolf whipped its thick head to one side, then the other, trying to free the long-handled weapon from its neck. Blood and phlegm flew from its mouth and then it collapsed, twitching beside the still elf. The wolf convulsed twice more and then lay still. Silence descended. It had taken ten times as long just to corner the hare. And even longer to kill it.
    “Great Mother of the Forest,” said a voice from beyond the carnage.
    Alexander shook his head and tried to stop his hands from shaking. He’d never had to